Dear Jack
by BluEyes
Summary: Fast forward a few years, and their entire world has come crashing down around them. Mondler
1. Prologue: 2011

**Dear Jack**

**Prologue: 2011**

~.~

_If you're a fellow Jack's Mannequin fan, the title is likely a dead give-away as to where this story is going. This was actually the second story I started writing when I came back here, well over two years ago. I never posted it. I never finished it. It's another over-done Mondler storyline. But, I've decided to post it. And finish it. Well, finish the in-between, since the beginning and ending have been sitting here for years. And since Mr. McMahon released his new album today, I figured, hey, what better day to post it?_

_Don't make _too_ many assumptions; we all know what happens when we do that… ;)_

~.~

_**I swear I didn't mean for it to be like this**_

_**like every inch of me is bruised**_

**-Jack's Mannequin, **_**Bruised**_

~.~

She stared at him from across the kitchen. The moonlight from the window was the only thing illuminating the otherwise dark room. She couldn't see his eyes clearly, but knew that the lifelessness in her own was reflected in them. Vibrant blue no longer met vibrant blue. Both pairs of eyes were somehow much duller now. Jaded, perhaps.

He blinked three times, quickly. He was blinking back tears; she knew this by now.

Her eyes hit the floor, no longer wanting to see her own pain reflected in his eyes. She could swallow her own pain, hold back the tears, steady her hand, steady her breath. But she knew that one more second of staring into his eyes was suicidal. One more second, and her thin walls would break down. She couldn't have that. It wasn't good for her; it wasn't good for anyone.

Their once perfect dream home now seemed so…painful. So lonely. So dull. So lifeless.

Mostly painful.

This wasn't supposed to be how this story, _their_ story, panned out. Not at all. Not. At. All.

She heard his shaky breaths from across the room. He knew what was coming; she knew what was coming. She tried to convince any muscle in her body to work, so as not to drag out the process any longer than absolutely necessary.

So, she slipped the ring off her finger, setting it on the kitchen table. She heard his breath catch in his throat; he was trying not to cry again. She didn't make eye contact, but instead turned toward the door. The doorknob, though, seemed to pose a problem. She couldn't make herself turn it. She stood, glued to the tile floor in front of the door, counting her breaths, still in control of her emotions.

The counting, though, distracted her from his approach.

"Mon."

It was a statement. A plea. A request. Love. Reaching out. Twenty-some years summed up in one syllable.

Slowly, her face turned towards his. Only her face, though. And only slightly.

Feeling his warm, uneven breaths on the back of her neck, smelling the familiar smell of his cologne mixed with the ridiculous apple scented shampoo he insisted on buying, seeing, only out of the corner of her eye, the pain in his eyes, it was suddenly too much for her to handle. Her keys slowly slipped from her fingers, dropping to the floor with a deafening thud.

And her walls came crumbling down.


	2. Chapter 1: 2009

**Dear Jack**

**Chapter 1: 2009**

~.~

_As I said, I realize this is an overdone cliché idea, and that's the main reason I never posted this, since I kind of pride myself on trying to write the opposite. But…I changed my mind, haha. Thank you for the kind reviews so far!_

_Oh, and it's my birthday today, so, ya know, a review would be an awesome birthday present. Just sayin'. :)_

~.~

"Erica?" Monica paced quickly through the living room, now decorated with streamers and balloons. "Erica?" she again called, running up the stairs. "Erica?" She opened the door to her room, and the little girl looked up at her from her bed.

"What, Mommy?" she stretched out sleepily.

"Erica, your friends are going to be here for your birthday party any minute! Jack and Emma are waiting for you downstairs. Come on," she held her hand out for her to take. "And since when do you nap, missy? I could never get you to nap when you were younger!"

Erica shrugged, and Monica tried to brush out some of the wrinkles in the dress she was wearing. "Mo-om," she whined, pulling away.

"Do you feel okay?" Monica placed her hand on her forehead. "You're awfully hot."

"I'm fine. Let's go-oo," she dragged out the last word, now pulling at her mother's hand.

"Okay, just don't touch anything anyone else is going to be eating. You don't need to get everyone else sick, too," she conceded, following Erica out of the pink bedroom and down the stairs. She frowned once more as she touched the back of her neck, sure she had a fever, but decided on slipping her a couple of Tylenol in a few minutes, and letting her have fun at her party before deciding she was actually sick.

"Happy birthday to us!" she sang, pulling away from her mother as she bounded down the staircase towards her brother and cousin, along with the first of their friends to show up. "Hi Emma, hi Jake!" She stopped in front of them.

~.~

"And how long have the fatigue and fever been going on?" the doctor asked, feeling along Erica's neck.

"For a little over a week," Monica began slowly, almost sure that made her sound like a bad mother. "The fevers usually go away during the day, though, so I thought since we already had a wellness checkup scheduled, she could just wait until now," Monica shrugged, suddenly feeling guilty for not bringing her earlier.

"Well, her lymph nodes are pretty swollen, but that isn't completely uncommon in younger children. It doesn't look like she has strep throat or anything else like that that would be causing it, but I am going to swab for it and put her on some antibiotics to see if it's from another type of bacterial infection. If after three days there isn't any improvement at all, call back and schedule another appointment," he handed a prescription to Monica, who nodded, trying to feel some sense of relief at how sure the doctor seemed of himself, though she had a gut feeling something was wrong.

Fighting off that feeling, Monica smiled. The doctor surely knew better than she would. "Thank you."

~.~

Monica tapped her fingers quickly across the counter, first pinky to index finger, and then the other way around as she clutched the phone to her ear with the other hand. She had been on hold for what felt like forever. "Yes, I'm still here," she finally sighed, relieved someone had picked back up. "No, my daughter's been seeing Dr. Nelson. I'd like her to see someone else. I don't care if he's the one on call," she paused. "Because she isn't getting any better. What was a sore throat and fever turned into a cough, and what was a small cough has now turned into her barely being able to breathe," Monica again paused. "Yes, I can hold again," Monica sighed as she was put on hold yet again, Chandler walking into the room.

"Still on hold?" he raised his eyebrows, going over to the refrigerator and grabbing a juice box to take back upstairs to Erica.

"On hold _again_," Monica sighed. "I'm about to say screw trying to get one of the on-call doctors in our doctor's office to see her and just go to the emergency room," she covered the mouthpiece on the phone as she spoke. "Is her cough getting any better? She took that medicine almost an hour ago."

Chandler shook his head. "No, and she's up there in tears now, saying it's hurting her chest she's coughing so hard," he ran a hand through his hair. "So, I'm not at all against-" Chandler stopped talking as Monica held a hand out to stop him, being taken off hold.

"Yea, I'm still here," she replied. "Wait, why does he want to meet us at the hospital and not your office?" Monica paused. "What kind of tests?" Another pause, and Chandler stared at her impatiently. "About fifteen minutes." Chandler raised his eyebrows. "Okay, we'll be there soon. Okay, thanks, bye," she hung up the phone. "Well, we win. We're going to the hospital tonight."

"Wait, what, why?" Chandler followed after her as she headed through the living room and towards the stairs.

"You need to not freak out right now," Monica came to a halt, halfway up the stairs. "Because Erica is already freaking out because she doesn't feel good, and I'm sure having a bunch of x-rays and tests done isn't going to help that."

Chandler took a deep breath. "Okay," he let it out slowly.

"Can you call Ross and Rachel and see if it's okay if we drop Jack off over there?" Monica asked, taking the juice box from his hand as she headed towards Erica's room.

Chandler only nodded, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket as he headed down the hall towards Jack's room.

Monica took a deep breath, trying to keep herself from freaking out, as well, before heading into Erica's room, trying not to let her five-year-old's tears break her down, as well.

~.~

Monica closed her eyes momentarily, leaning her head back against the cold concrete wall behind her chair in the waiting room of the hospital, having been there for over twenty-four hours now. Chandler had gone downstairs in search of coffee and food for them, but Monica had stayed in the waiting room, just in case the surgeon came out with any information.

As soon as Erica had been admitted, test after test had been run. First, a blood test, which came back abnormal. Then, an x-ray. After the x-ray had shown an abnormal growth in her chest, most likely responsible for her coughing and problems breathing, a CT scan was done, which confirmed the location of the tumor, and that it was operable.

More tests were done. Erica spent the entire time crying and coughing as they took blood, bone marrow, and did an excisional biopsy of one of her lymph nodes.

Erica cried.

Monica and Chandler tried hard not to cry, each taking a moment when necessary to pull themselves together.

They would have to wait on results from the tests, but the oncologist they had been referred to, Dr. Craig, told them the most likely cause looked to be Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma from her symptoms thus far.

Oncologist.

_Cancer_.

The room had spun when he said the word, both Monica and Chandler silent, in disbelief.

She couldn't have cancer. She couldn't be sick. She was five. Earlier that week, she was running around outside playing with all of the other kids on the street. She was less than a month away from their preschool graduation ceremony. She was so little; she couldn't be sick. It was completely unfathomable.

Chandler returned, sitting down next to Monica, handing her a paper cup of coffee and a sandwich. Monica took a sip of the coffee, but set the sandwich on the chair beside her, Chandler silently reaching for her hand.

Erica couldn't be that sick, yet here they were, sitting in a hospital waiting room, waiting for her to come out of surgery. The diagnosis wasn't finalized, but they couldn't wait for that, because Erica couldn't breathe. And if it was NHL, it was most likely aggressive because of the rapid on-set of her symptoms, so they couldn't take any risks by waiting longer.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bing?"

Chandler and Monica immediately stood up as a doctor walked into the waiting room.

"Surgery went well," he smiled, both of them breathing a sigh of relief at that. "We were able to remove all of the tumor, and you should get the biopsy results of that in a few days when you get the other results."

"Oh, thank god," Monica sighed in relief.

"She's still asleep, but you can go in and see her now."

"Thank you, doctor," Chandler smiled, as well, before the two headed down the hall and towards her room, leaving their forgotten food behind.

Once they reached her room, they both hesitated, looking in at the little girl, their little girl, who looked so small, lying asleep in the middle of a hospital bed in a hospital room. It was almost as if they were both choked by a sudden, silent sob in the back of their throats, halting in unison, the pain of being faced with their daughter's mortality much more painful than ever being faced with their own.


	3. Chapter 2: 2009

**Dear Jack**

**Chapter 2: 2009**

~.~

_Thanks so much for the reviews and birthday wishes! Whoever said they are guessing this isn't going to be a happy story, well…I'm not going to lie and say it is, haha._

~.~

_**You're a brave girl,**_

_**And I know it's only just started…**_

-Jack's Mannequin, _There, There Katie_

~.~

"Anaplastic Large Cell Lymphoma," Chandler repeated what Dr. Craig had just told them, the words hard to force out of his mouth, catching on his tongue. "Stage four…stage four isn't good." Monica, who was sitting beside him in Dr. Craig's office, squeezed his hand as he spoke.

"Stage four is the most advanced, yes," Dr. Craig replied. "In the case of ALCL, it means that a body system outside of the lymph nodes is involved, which, in Erica's case, is the tumor in her chest," he paused. "But the good news is, that as far as aggressive cancers go, this one isn't so bad. The 5-year survival rate is over seventy-percent."

"Meaning thirty percent don't survive for five years," Monica spoke up softly, having not said a word since they walked into the office.

"So, what happens now?" Chandler asked, glossing over Monica's comment, not wanting to even think of that possibility at the moment.

"Chemotherapy. A combination regimen of four different drugs is usually used in this case, referred to as CHOP. I can go into greater detail about what each of the drugs does, of course, but I'll go over the regimen first," Dr. Craig pulled out a small stack of papers, setting it close to them on his desk in front of them. "Before we start, we can insert a central line into her chest, so that each time she comes in for treatment or needs blood taken, it can be done through that, instead of a needle every time. Once we start the CHOP therapy, each cycle consists of 5 days of treatment with a rest period of 21 days in-between. Generally, 6 to 8 cycles are given, and we will re-evaluate after the first 4 cycles to see what progress we're making," he continued on, setting down a few pamphlets, as well. "I know this is all a lot to take in," he looked from Monica to Chandler, both silent. "If you want to go home, read some of this over, and come back in the morning, we can do that."

Chandler looked at Monica, who was now staring at the desk in front of them. "Mon?"

Monica stared ahead for a few more moments, finally shaking her head. "No," she said quietly. "Let's go over all of it now."

"Mon-"

"Now is good," Monica nodded, now speaking more firmly. "We're talking about our 5-year-old daughter, so, now is good."

Dr. Craig looked again from Monica to Chandler, who slowly nodded in agreement. "Okay, I've scheduled surgery to insert the central line on Friday, you can plan on going home over the weekend, and coming back for the first day of chemo on Monday. This first day, we will have Erica stay here over night to monitor her, but after that, it will be done on an outpatient basis…."

~.~

Chandler stood, alone, at the end of a long stretch of hallway, staring at the pay phone in front of him. Erica was still in surgery. They had talked to Dr. Craig after she first went in, having had time to absorb the information he had given then a couple of days earlier, and came back with a list of questions. Well, Monica made the list, but they were definitely his questions, too.

They had asked if the possibility of needing a bone marrow donor could come up. Yes, it was a possibility. And, yes, biological relatives had a better chance of being a match. Jack could, of course, be tested, but he was so young…they didn't want to put him through that if they didn't have to. They had mentioned an open adoption; were they in touch with Erica's biological mother?

He and Monica had further discussed that one. The conclusion they had come to was, whether or not it came to needing a bone marrow donor, adult Erica had a right to know. They had sent her occasional updates on Erica and Jack, a few pictures, milestones, that kind of thing, and they had spoken openly with Jack and Erica about being adopted, as much as could be with such young children. And what if… They didn't even want to _think_ of the what if of everything not turning out alright, but that possibility existed, and that certainly wasn't the phone call he wanted to be making.

Erica deserved to know now.

Chandler's cell phone had died, and Monica had somehow left home without hers, but, it turned out, pay phones still existed. Sticking his hand in his pocket, he pulled out a few quarters, unsure how much it would even cost to make a long distance call. Chandler stuck in the first quarter, suddenly fighting a lump in his throat. Leaning his head against the plastic frame of the pay phone, he closed his eyes, fighting back tears.

He wished he could text this news. Or email it. He wished that was appropriate. Because it had been his way of delivering it so far. It was how he told his boss at work, it was how they told Ross and Rachel, unable to get the words out yet, and they had spread the news to their family and friends. They had, of course, explained to Erica, and to Jack, about her being sick with the help of a nurse in the pediatric oncology department.

But, he hadn't said the words out loud yet: Erica has cancer. My daughter has cancer.

How the hell was Erica going to be the first one he spoke those words to?

Taking a deep breath, Chandler opened his eyes, pulling his head back, inserting the other two coins and dialing the phone number on the small slip of paper in his hand.

It rang once; Chandler swallowed the knot in his throat.

Twice; he tried to even out his breaths.

A third time-

"Hello?" Erica sounded confused, probably because of the unfamiliar number from an unfamiliar area code.

"Hey, Erica," Chandler began, trying to keep his voice steady. "It's-it's Chandler…."

~.~

"Cool," Jack sat on the edge of Erica's bed as she showed him the central line that had been inserted into her chest. "You're like a robot!"

"Nu-uh," Erica replied in a know-it-all tone, as if that had been the dumbest thing she had heard in her entire five years of life. "It's just for medicine so I don't have to get so many shots."

Jack shrugged, hopping down off the bed as Monica came over with Erica's clothes so that they could go home.

"Is Erica going to school next week?" he asked his mother, who handed Erica her clothes and Erica pouted, motioning for her mom and brother to turn around while she got dressed.

"Probably not," Monica responded slowly. They had discussed her going to school for her last few weeks of preschool, but decided the risk of catching something once her white blood cell count would inevitably bottom out wasn't worth it. She wasn't going to miss anything important and was already very ready to start kindergarten that fall, and her treatment would be done by then.

"Aw, you're gonna miss ice cream sundae day," Jack whined.

"Can I go on ice cream sundae day?" Erica asked her mother, hopping down from the bed.

"We'll see," Monica spoke slowly, wishing she could only understand what was happening through the eyes of a five-year-old, because she was worried about Erica missing out on a lot more than ice cream sundae day at school.

~.~

Monica sat across the kitchen table from Chandler, both of them on their laptops. She was reading everything she could about ALCL and chemotherapy and kids, article after article, forum after forum, while Chandler attempted to catch up on some of the work he had missed. They sat in silence after the kids had gone to bed, the tick of the clock on the wall the only sound filling the room.

"I'm going to take an indefinite leave of absence at work," Monica finally said quietly.

"What?" Chandler looked up at her.

"I'm going to take an indefinite leave of absence at work," she repeated. "At least, until Erica's done with treatment and the kids start school in the fall, and we'll see after that. We can't have her going to day care this summer and catching everything that goes around. And I want to be here with her if she's sick."

"Do you think Steve will be okay with that?" Chandler asked, referring to the owner of Monica's restaurant. "Can they find a replacement that quickly?"

Monica shrugged. "My sous chef is amazing. And if he's not okay with it," she paused, "I'll just quit permenantly."

"You love your job."

Monica smiled. "Before I ever wanted to be a chef, do you know what I wanted to be?" she paused, and before she even said the words, Chandler knew what they were going to be. "A mom. I can find another job."

Chandler nodded. "I'm letting someone else take over two of my biggest accounts," he finally admitted.

"What? Chandler, that's crazy. You've worked so hard for those."

"Is it?" he raised his eyebrows. "That's a little hypocritical." Monica remained silent at that. He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Although, I'm missing out on a lot of bonus potential, and we're already going to be paying back money for hospital bills until they're in college. I don't know," he shook his head, finally closing his laptop. "Let's just call it a night and go to bed, Mon."

Monica nodded slowly, watching him stand up from the table. "I'll be right up."

~.~

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine," Jack sang, sitting on the foot of Erica's bed, coloring in a coloring book, Erica sitting on the opposite end, coloring, as well. "You make me happy, when skies are gray. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away. You are my sunshin-"

"Jackie, don't you know any other songs?" Monica asked, this having been about the fifth time he repeated it.

Jack shrugged. "We sang that song and the fishies song at school today, but I don't know all the words to the fishies song."

"I didn't have to go to school today," Erica bragged, grinning. So far, she hadn't had any side effects to the chemo she had received earlier in the day.

"And you're gonna miss ice cream sundae day," Jack reminded her.

"Yea, but, I got a popsicle earlier," Erica replied, finishing coloring her picture. "Mommy, can I give this picture to Nurse Janine?" she asked, holding it up for her mom to see. "She gave me this sticker earlier," she pointed to the butterfly sticker on her pajama shirt.

Monica smiled at that. "I'm sure that would make her very happy."

"Mommy, how do you spell Nurse Janine?" Erica asked, crayon still in her hand. "T-O," she spelled out loud as she wrote the letters down.

"N-U-R-S-E space J-A-N-I-N-E," Monica spelled it out for her.

"Do I have to sleep here tonight?" Erica asked. "I want to go home. I don't feel sick."

"Yea, sorry, baby," Monica stood up, moving over to the bed. "Just for tonight, though." Erica sighed audibly. "I'm going to stay here with you all night, though."

"What about Daddy and Jack?"

"They have to go home and sleep."

Erica frowned. "Can we get ice cream tomorrow since I'm missing ice cream day?"

Monica laughed. "Sure, we can get ice cream tomorrow…."

~.~

Monica sprinkled a few chocolate chips into the pancakes she was making, chocolate chip pancakes being a special treat since it was the morning of Jack and Erica's preschool graduation. Erica had been talking all week about how excited she was to see all of her friends since she hadn't seen them in the last few weeks. She had been doing surprisingly well with treatment so far, only having a slightly increased appetite, which they had been told could be a possibility, as well as being slightly more tired the last couple of weeks.

At the sound of Erica screaming, Monica dropped the spatula she was holding, having been about to flip a pancake, and ran towards the stairs, nearly colliding with Chandler, who was running up towards her room, as well.

When Monica and Chandler reached her room, though, they only found Jack, sitting at the foot of her bed. About to apprehend him for what they suspected to be some sort of fight between the two siblings, Jack shook his head, pointing to the pile of hair on her pillow.

"She's in the bathroom," he explained. "Her hairs are falling out."

Monica turned around, walking around Chandler and towards the hall bathroom.

"Erica," she knocked on the door. "Sweetie, can I come in?"

"No!" Erica shouted from behind the door, and Monica heard her lean against it, door hitting the frame audibly.

"Remember when the nurses were talking to you about your medicine?" Monica asked, knowing that telling a 5-year-old her hair might fall out and her hair actually falling out were two different things entirely.

Erica finally opened the door, appearing red-eyed from behind it, still crying. "But-if-I-don't-have-hair-I'll-look-like-a-boy," she sobbed, accepting her mother's arms around her as Monica kneeled down to her level to hug her.

"No, you won't," Monica reassured her.

"But-but-but," Erica pulled back, trying to hold in her sobs, reaching up and literally pulling out a clump of hair. "I-I lo-ook stu-u-pid," she trailed off crying, Monica again hugging her.

"Hey, remember when Uncle Joey shaved his head for that movie?" Monica asked softly, Erica's sobs finally subsiding. Erica nodded, pulling back. "If we shave the rest of it off, then you'll just look really cool like he did, not stupid at all."

Erica nodded slowly, thinking that through. "Kay."

Fifteen minutes later, Monica walked into the kitchen, Erica following close behind, eyes still red-rimmed, and hair now completely gone.

"We finished pancakes," Jack announced, sitting on the counter beside the stove, Chandler standing beside him, spatula in hand. "I put chocolate chips _and_ blueberries in yours," he said, looking at his sister, who smiled at that.

Chandler watched his daughter sadly slump into one of the kitchen chairs, Jack hopping down from the counter. Chandler then handed Jack both of the plates to carry over to the table, making sure he made it without dropping them before looking up to meet Monica's eye, knowing before he even looked up that she would be holding back tears.

And she was.

~.~

"Erica, go get your shoes on. We're going to be late," Monica warned as she came across Erica in the living room, sitting on the couch in front of a blank TV screen, Jack and Chandler already standing by the front door, ready to leave.

"I'm. Not. Going," Erica stated slowly, folding her littler arms across her chest.

"Sweetie, why not?" Monica asked softly, though she knew exactly why. "You were so excited to see your friends!"

Erica shook her head. "Everyone is gonna stare at me, 'cause I don't have any hair, and girls are s'posed to have hair," she stated. "Ben can come babysit me," she added, her cousin Ben being her favorite babysitter.

"Ben's already there with Emma and Uncle Ross and Aunt Rachel," Monica explained, and Erica's face fell further still.

"I'm not going!" she repeated, more firmly this time, Jack running up the stairs.

"You can wear a hat," Monica offered.

Erica sighed sadly, sinking back into the couch. "Hats are against the rules at school."

Chandler finally turned and headed towards the stairs, going up after Jack. They had discussed that they wanted to make a point not to let him feel left out in any way or that his sister was getting special treatment or more loved in any way, knowing that she would probably be receiving much more attention.

"Jack," Chandler called out softly, looking first in his room. "Jack?" he repeated, heading towards the master bedroom since he had already walked past Erica's room, as well.

"I'm in here!" Jack's little voice came from the master bathroom, Chandler heading in there. Jack sat on his knees, on the counter in front of the mirror, pair of scissors in hand, a chunk of hair already missing from the front.

"Buddy, what are you doing?" Chandler asked. "You're not supposed to play with scissors without asking first. You might get hurt."

"Erica never does anything against the rules, and she got hurt, anyway," Jack replied, but handed the scissors to his father anyway. "I want to cut all my hairs off, too, so everyone doesn't stare at Erica," he turned to face Chandler.

Chandler felt tears stinging the back of his eyes at that statement, nodding in agreement. "Good idea," he managed to whisper, opening a drawer and pulling out his electric razor. "You sure?" he asked Jack, who nodded enthusiastically as Chandler turned it on.

"Uh-huh."

"Boys! Time to go!" Monica's voice yelled up the hallway. "I called Rachel, and they're waiting for us!"

"Be down in a sec, Mon," Chandler called back down to her.

Monica looked up at the sound of the boys coming down the stairs, not sure if she should smile or cry at the site in front of her: both of them had shaved their heads completely.

Erica, though, grinned, running over to her brother.

"Let's go, babe," Chandler said softly, reaching out for Monica's hand, the four of them heading out the door together.

~.~

"Miss Jenni, we missed the Bs!" Erica whispered. "We're before Mike in the ABC's!" she pointed to the line. They had arrived late and came in quietly through the back door. Chandler and Monica stopped along the wall, Chandler pulling out a video camera.

"It's okay," Miss Jenni, one of their teachers assured her. "Just hop on at the end of the line. We won't forget about you. Promise," she smiled at the little girl.

"C'mon," Jack reached for his sister's hand, holding it as they walked up to the front of the room, one of their other teachers standing in the front, calling out names as the students walked across the room to her, hugging her and receiving a certificate as the parents and other family members in the crowd applauded.

Rachel turned around from their seat in the crowd, waving at Chandler and Monica once she saw Jack and Erica, before turning back towards the front.

"Maddi Waverly," the other teacher called, the second to the last student in front of them, Erica still clutching tightly to her brother's hand as the crowd applauded. "Zoe Young," she continued. "Jack Bing." Erica dropped his hand, letting him walk across the room. "Erica Bing." Erica walked quickly over to her teacher, nearly running, throwing herself into her arms in a hug, before heading towards the other children.

Monica wiped her eyes, everyone clapping louder and longer, standing up from their seats, as Erica crossed the room. Chandler reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly, the crowd in front of them now blocking their view. He adjusted his position slightly, Jack and Erica spotting him and waving at the camera, everyone still clapping, as he attempted to swallow the knot in his throat as Monica squeezed his hand back, not attempting to hide the tears in his eyes.

Overwhelmed by the beauty of the scene in front of him and the frightening possibility that his may be the only graduation of hers they would be able to attend, he decided it was one of those times when a grown man was openly allowed to cry.


	4. Chapter 3: Autumn 2009

**Dear Jack**

**Chapter 3: Autumn 2009**

~.~

_Sorry for the delay, this one takes a lot of energy. And I feel like you guys aren't digging the un-happy stories lately, which is a shame, because this fandom used to love a good angsty or dramatic fic. _

_Also, this won't all move so slowly. We still have to get from 2009 to 2011._

_Anyway, thanks for the reviews so far, and keep them up, please. :)_

~.~

"Monica," Chandler sighed in exasperation, catching the bedroom door mid-slam as he rushed after her, closing it behind them. "Monica, don't you think you're being a little ridiculous?" he continued on, Monica standing, arms crossed, away from him by their bedroom window.

"I'm being ridiculous?" she spun around to look at him. "You're the one who told your five-year-old daughter she could go to a birthday party after I told her she couldn't go. Yes, **I'm** clearly the ridiculous one," she attempted to move past him, but he blocked her passage between the bed and where she was standing beside the window.

"So, what, you were going to let Jack go and make her stay home?" Chandler challenged, Monica remaining silent. "Oh, so neither of them was going even though they haven't seen any of their friends all summer?"

Monica shook her head in frustration. "It's not like this is forever. Just, the chance of her catching something around all of those kids-"

"So, what, you're just going to keep her locked inside until she's in remission? Are you going to make her miss her first day of Kindergarten?"

"If I have to!" Monica shot back, both of them angry, but trying to keep their voices down so the kids wouldn't hear their argument.

"Jesus Christ, Mon, let her be five!" Chandler raised his voice slightly. "Because she might not get to be six or seven or ten or twenty, but she is five, so let her be a goddamn five-year-old," he vocalized both of their fears, slightly too loudly and suddenly, and Monica turned away from him at that, knowing he was right, but having a hard time holding herself together. "Let her spend a fucking hour at a birthday party with her friends," he added quieter, and when Monica remained silent, Chandler sighed, turning to leave the room.

Monica closed her eyes, allowing the tears to fall once he was out of the room. That was the first time either of them had acknowledged out loud both of their worst fear. Saying it out loud, hearing it, made it all too possible, all too fathomable, and she found herself needing the solitude to pull herself together after that hard blow to the gut.

Before she could fully recover, though, Chandler came back in, standing in front of her, wrapping his arms around her as she clung back.

"Sorry," he whispered into her hair, tears audible in his voice.

Monica took a shaky breath before replying, "One of us had to say it, eventually…."

~.~

"Ben!" Erica squealed, running down the stairs as the doorbell rang, already wearing her pajamas, knowing her cousin was there to baby-sit her.

Rachel had convinced Monica that perhaps she and Chandler needed some alone time since they hadn't had any in months. It had taken a lot of convincing, too, but Erica had been doing extremely well, and after some (much) consideration, Monica finally decided (was persuaded) that it would be okay to go out for a couple of hours.

"Hey, munchkin," Ben laughed as Erica clung to his legs.

"Guess what movie Mommy rented?" she asked, pulling him towards the living room. "_Monsters ver-zes Aliens_!" she exclaimed, running to grab the DVD.

"Hi, Aunt Monica," Ben greeted Monica, who walked in from the kitchen.

"Hi, Ben," she smiled in return. "We won't be gone long. We're just going to dinner at that new Italian place down the street and maybe to a movie," she explained. "Jack went to a movie with a friend," Monica shook her head. "I don't know what kind of crazy woman wants to take four five-year-olds to a movie, but more power to her. He should be home in about an hour. I left both of our phone numbers and the phone number for Erica's doctor on the table. If you need anything—**anything**—just call. We'll be five minutes away."

Ben smiled. "We'll be fine."

"Seriously, don't be afraid to call."

"We'll be fine," he repeated, going into the living room, where Erica had already started the movie.

~.~

"You really don't want any popcorn?" Ben, who had gotten up to get them snacks halfway through the movie, asked Erica, who was laying on the couch, still watching the movie. Erica shook her head. "Not even with M&Ms in it so they get all squishy?" he asked, referring to the snack they'd had last time he had watched the twins that they had both loved.

"No," she shook her head. "I don't feel so good."

"What's wrong?" Ben asked, practically running back into the living room.

"I just don't feel good all day. My tummy and my head hurts. But if I told Mommy, she wouldn't let you come baby-sit," Erica explained, sitting up as he sat beside her.

Ben reached out, placing a hand on her forehead. "Shit, you're burning up."

"That's a naughty word."

"Sorry," Ben apologized, running back into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinet they kept their medicine in, pulling out a thermometer. "Here," he handed it to Erica, who stuck it in her mouth, used to such requests from her mother.

"A-lr yew ma at me?" Erica tried to talk while keeping her mouth closed.

"Don't talk," Ben sighed, sitting beside her. "No, I'm not mad at you. Just worried."

As the thermometer beeped, Erica took it out of her mouth, handing it to Ben. "Everybody's always worried about me," Erica sighed deeply. "It's no fun."

"102.7. I'm gonna be no fun and call your mom," Ben stood back up, taking his cell phone out of his pocket.

"Please no?" Erica went after him, grabbing at his leg. "Please no?" she repeated, now near tears. "Please no, please no, please no…."

Ben took a deep breath, calling Monica anyway. "Hey," he greeted her, trying to ignore Erica's pleading. "Everything's kind of okay. Erica has a fever—102.7. Okay," he paused. "How much do I give her? Okay. Okay. See you in a few minutes. Bye."

Erica's bottom lip quivered, arms crossed. "But I never get to do anything fun."

"Sorry, munchkin."

She sat on the ground, arms still crossed, pouting. "Do I have to go to the hospital?"

"Yea."

"You are no fun like everyone else!" she stood up, storming towards the stairs, sitting on the bottom one.

"Come on, Erica, you need to come take medicine."

"I **always** need to come take medicine."

"Hey, c'mon," Ben sat on the step beside her, heart hurting at how upset she was. "I'll come with you, and we can finish the movie in the car and watch the rest of it when we get there?"

Erica sighed. "Promise you won't leave til it's over?"

"Promise."

"Can you get my hat from my room before Mommy gets home? My pink winter one? Everyone stares at me if I go places with no hat on and no hair."

"Sure," Ben hopped up, ready to go get that and some Tylenol. "Anything else?"

"My blanket. And Dad's computer to watch the movie."

"Be right back," Ben headed upstairs, coming back only moments later, the aforementioned items in hand. He pulled her hat on her head, handed her the blanket and set the computer down, handing her a syringe of liquid Tylenol. Erica took it, making a face, as Ben sat beside her.

"I like the orange kind more than the red kind," Erica pointed out.

"Next time I'll know."

"I won't be sick forever. That's why I have to go to so many doctors and take so much medicine. To make me better," Erica explained what had been repeated to her many times, holding tightly onto her blanket.

"That is very true," Ben agreed.

Erica climbed onto his lap, leaning her head against his chest, still clutching her blanket, tired of fighting not feeling well. "You're still my favorite grown up."

Ben smiled, trying not to laugh at that, not at all considering himself to be a grown up. "You're my favorite munchkin."

~.~

Erica came into the kitchen, where Monica was cooking dinner, wearing the school uniform Monica had bought a few weeks earlier, along with the backpack she had picked out when Monica took both her and Jack school supply shopping. She had debated long and hard on taking Erica with or leaving her home, knowing very well she could be missing at least a couple of weeks of school at the beginning, but didn't want her to feel more left out than she already did.

"I want to go to school Monday," Erica announced, referring to the first day of school coming up.

Monica's face and heart fell. "Sweetie, remember we said you probably won't get to go the first couple of weeks-"

"I. Want. To. Go. To. School," Erica repeated slowly.

Monica bit her bottom lip. Erica's white blood cell count had plummeted because of her chemotherapy, causing the infection that landed her in the hospital for a week, and had delayed her next round of treatment.

"I want to go to school," Erica repeated, quieter, but still firmly.

Monica bit her lip. She wanted to say yes. She didn't want to tell her five-year-old she couldn't go to _school_ of all places, that she had to miss her first day of Kindergarten. But she knew her white blood cell count was still too low, and the risk of her getting sick again right now was too high.

"Mommy?"

Monica shook her head slowly, Erica's big blue eyes filling immediately with tears.

"Maybe next week," Monica choked out, trying to hold back her own tears. "We'll have to see after you go to the doctor."

Erica immediately turned to silently leave, heading back up to her room.

"You're lucky you don't have to go to school," Jack pointed out, following his sister upstairs and into her room. Erica ignored him, lying down on her bed, covering her head with her pillow. Jack poked at her leg with his finger, but she ignored him. "Want me to sing the sunshine song?" he asked her as he climbed onto the bed. From beneath her pillow, he made out a nod. "You are my sunshine," he sang, "my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy with skies are grey…."

~.~

_I don't own "You Are My Sunshine," although my best friend and I in high school used to write it in a note to the other person if they were having a bad day and then pass it to them in the hall. :)_

_Reviews? Please and thanks :)_


	5. Chapter 4: Winter 2009

**Dear Jack**

**Chapter 4: Winter 2009**

~.~

_**I'm sorry  
>That in your condition<br>The sunshine's been missing  
>But, don't believe that it isn't there…<strong>_

_**We're really not there**_

_-Jack's Mannequin, _There, There Katie

~.~

Chandler bit his bottom lip as he watched his daughter's face, wanting to cry at how hardened and beyond her years the expression was. She was curled up on her side, clutching her teddy bear in her tiny arms, insisting she didn't need to hold his hand during her bone marrow aspiration and biopsy. The first time she had this procedure done, she had bawled. Now, rather, she lay still, stiller than most five-year-olds are capable of staying, looking completely devoid of emotion.

Crossing his arms, Chandler took a deep breath, wishing he had gotten to go to parent-teacher conferences today and Monica had come here instead of the other way around. He found himself kicking himself for that thought before it was even complete, though, feeling like a terrible parent at just the notion.

Erica had been responding well to treatment, and this round of testing—having blood taken, an MRI, the bone marrow biopsy—was being done to see if the last round of therapy had put her cancer into remission. They hadn't told Erica this possibility existed, though, that she might be better, because she was too young to understand a possibility of something without it being true. At this point in time, they were hoping for the best but bracing themselves for the worst.

Erica's big blue eyes stared across the room, past her father, at the white wall. She was all but ignoring the doctor performing the procedure, though he was talking to her. She stared into nothingness, never so much as flinching or moving or crying. When she did look up, meeting her father's eye, he attempted to force a smile but failed, tears involuntarily welling up in the back of his eyes, and he found he was nothing but grateful when she again looked away, not wanting her to see him cry.

~.~

"Complete remission?" Monica repeated hesitantly, tears in her eyes, unable to believe the news they had been waiting a week for.

"Complete remission," Dr. Craig repeated with a smile, happy to be able to deliver happy news. Monica reached up to wipe away tears (happy tears) at that, Chandler squeezing her hand but remaining silent. "And her white blood cell count is almost completely recovered, so I see no reason for her not to return to school after the holidays," he added, knowing that was something Erica frequently asked about.

"And that's-that's it?" Chandler asked hesitantly.

Dr. Craig smiled at them from across his desk. "I'll have you schedule an appointment sometime at the beginning of the New Year to retest, and then every six months after that. Childhood cancers aren't without further complication, and, as we discussed before, chemotherapy can even cause other cancers later in life, and there is always the possibility of relapse, which is why she will continue to come in for check-ups, but," he smiled at them, "right now, you go home and enjoy the holidays."

Chandler and Monica looked at each other, both teary-eyed, before turning back to the doctor.

"Thank you," Monica smiled through her tears as she stood up.

"Thank you," Chandler echoed, following Monica out the door, the two embracing as soon as they were through it, holding each other tightly, wanting to stretch out this moment a little longer. Monica folded into Chandler's embrace, arms around his waist, crying into his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, burying his face in her hair. After a moment, they pulled back, Chandler leaning down to peck her lightly on the lips as they smiled at each other through happy tears.

After so many months of bad news, good news felt pretty damn good, and they were holding onto it for as long as they could.

~.~

At the sound of the front door of Ross and Rachel's house opening, Jack, Emma, and Erica came running down the stairs, Erica in the lead, throwing herself at her mother from the second to last step.

"Hi," Monica laughed, lifting the little girl up. "Did you feed them all sugar?" she asked Rachel, who had walked into the hallway now, with a laugh. Rachel shook her head and shrugged, Emma and Jack running past her to the living room. "Guess what?" she said, looking down at Erica.

Erica's eyes immediately lit up, only one hope in her mind, one thing, through everything else, that she had been pouting about for months now. "I get to go to school?" she asked excitedly, and Monica nodded, trying to hold back her tears. "Am I still sick?"

Monica shook her head. "Not right now. You have to keep going to the doctor to make sure you don't get sick again, but you're not sick anymore."

"Lemme go! Lemme go!" Erica wiggled to get down from her mother's embrace, and when Monica set her down, she ran in the direction the other two children were heading. "Jack! Jack! Guess what?"

"Smartest damn five-year-old I've ever met," Chandler laughed.

"You guys!" Rachel exclaimed, pulling both of them in simultaneously for a hug. "We should all have dinner tonight to celebrate! Ross should be home any minute," she suggested as she pulled back. "Or you guys probably want to be alone. Or call everyone you know first. Or send out a mass email."

"All thoughts that crossed our mind on the way over," Chandler laughed, the three kids running back into the entryway where the adults were still standing.

"Can we have ice cream for dinner?" Erica asked, sensing the adults' excitement, and prepared to take full advantage of it. Chandler and Rachel both looked at Monica, giving small shrugs of approval.

"Just this one time," Monica replied.

"Yes!"

"But, no fighting at all tonight. And it is _just_ this _one_ time," Monica reiterated, but the three children were already cheering in excitement, running to get their coats and shoes. "So, what do the grown-ups want to eat?" Monica turned back towards Rachel and Chandler.

"We…can't just have ice cream?" Chandler asked slowly.

Rachel laughed. "So, don't ask Mom for ice cream for dinner, ask Dad?"

"Hey, I have never let them have ice cream for dinner," Chandler defended himself. "Well, okay, only once," Chandler added off of Monica's look, but she didn't say a word, having come to realize over the last several months that there were things of far greater concern than having ice cream for dinner.


	6. Chapter 5: Spring 2010

**Dear Jack**

**Chapter 5: Spring 2010**

~.~

_Again, this part's been sitting here, waiting for me to add to it…decided to go ahead and post it. Kinda short, but...I'm gonna go with it. It was either post this now, or else wait until god knows when, when I finally add to it._

_Thanks for the reviews so far, and keep it up, please. :) _

~.~

Erica's little body shook with sobs as she wiggled away from the nurse who was only trying to start an IV, having been fighting off all doctors and nurses since she was admitted a few hours earlier. Monica bit her thumbnail, tears in her eyes as she watched her daughter throw the biggest fit she'd thrown since she was about three-years-old. Even then, Erica had always been the calm one, Jack much more likely to make a scene than she was.

"Erica, sweetie," Monica stepped forward, reaching out to touch the little girl, but Erica moved away from even her mother's touch.

"No!" she shouted, wiggling away. "No, no," she crawled to the foot of the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. "I'm not sick anymore," she stated adamantly, shaking her head fiercely from side-to-side as she wiped her hand across her reddened cheeks, but tears continued to spill down them, anyway. "No," she repeated, softer, taking short, jagged breaths as she finished her temper tantrum. "I'm not sick," she whispered through a deep, shaky breath. "I don't want to be sick again. It's not fair. It's not fair..."

~.~

Monica sat in the waiting room, alone, head in her hands as she took a few deep breaths, waiting for news of Erica's surgery. She had brought Erica in when she developed a high fever and persistent cough, feeling it was better safe than sorry, though she was trying to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that she knew something wasn't right. Erica had insisted she wasn't sick, said she felt fine, but Monica had brought her in, anyway.

And Erica cried.

She cried on the drive to the hospital. She cried and fought her way through every test, just like the very first time. And Monica had stood by, helplessly, trying her best not to cry.

Chandler was out of town on a business trip, though he had gone straight to the airport as soon as Monica had called to say they were going to the hospital, not even meeting with his clients he was in Seattle to see. The first flight out he had found had been delayed, though, and so she sat, alone in the hospital, waiting. Waiting for Erica to get out of surgery, waiting for news from the doctor on her test results, waiting for Chandler to pick up Jack from Ross and Rachel's and get to the hospital already.

Sitting back up in the chair, Monica wiped her eyes, glancing at the time. From the last time she had checked on Chandler's flight, it should have landed ten minutes earlier, though he still had to get to Ross and Rachel's and then to the hospital. Monica blew out a slow breath, startled at the sound of her name.

"Monica?"

Monica stood up, thankful the voice belonged to Dr. Craig. "Any news?" she asked, trying to stop her voice from shaking.

"They were able to remove all of the masses from her lung," he started out, "and they are just closing her up now."

"But?" Monica asked, sensing there was more.

"Will your husband be here soon?"

"Yes, but, I don't-I-I need to know now, not in ten minutes," Monica's reply came out sounding helpless, a mixture of demanding and begging.

"Let's sit for a minute," he took a seat in one of the chairs, Monica hesitantly following suit. "As well as the tumors in her lungs, the cancer has also spread to her bone marrow. Although this is very rare for ALCL, it is still treatable."

Monica nodded, trying to absorb the new information. "What's the survival rate?"

"With recurrent ALCL, it's forty to sixty percent."

Monica continued to nod. "So, we've gone from a most likely to a maybe," she whispered.

"With the aggressive onset, we need to begin chemotherapy immediately," Dr. Craig continued. "Though, the regimen this time is inpatient, not outpatient."

"She will be thrilled," Monica replied wryly.

"Because of the involvement of the bone marrow, a bone marrow transplant is also a very likely possibility," Dr. Craig continued. "Did you have your son tested?"

Monica shook her head. "Not yet," she whispered.

"I know this is a lot to take in," the doctor reached out, placing his hand on her arm. "If you want to take a few minutes to absorb all of this and wait for Chandler to get here, I'll be in my office, and the surgeon will come let you know when she is out of surgery."

Monica nodded slowly, not wanting him to walk away, but feeling that being alone was just as well.

"If you need anything, you know where to find me," he gave her a reassuring smile before standing up and walking away.

Monica took a deep breath as she sank deeper into her chair, Erica's little voice echoing in her head, crying, _It's not fair._

It's not fair.


End file.
